Cleaning the Frat House

As Jon stepped outside, the warm embrace of the sun caressed his skin. The island vacation was nothing short of amazing, though he wondered when he would meet the girls that were promised. Such trivial thoughts were quickly dismissed - surely, the architects of this grand vacation resort had taken care of everything.

Jon gazed down at his new outfit. The ruffles of the black skirt prevented the fabric from clinging too tightly, leaving his nether regions exposed to the gentle breeze. The outfit was certainly practical for a hot day like this. He couldn't help but think back to his old outfit, which he had so generously given away. He couldn't bear to ask for it back from the kind boys who had encouraged him while he had expressed himself through dance. No, it was gone, and no use moaning about the past.

This new attire had its advantages, though. The cute black hat would keep him cool if the sun grew too intense, while the padded bra allowed him to avoid the discomfort of a loose-fitting garment. After lacing up the corset-style top that displayed an ample amount of cleavage, Jon slipped on the fishnet stockings and five-inch heels. The mirror at the bar reflected back at him, showing that he had found the perfect attire for his current task.

He observed the building next door - a large house with three Greek letters hung over the entrance. Jon surmised that it was a frat house, and he couldn't help but think of his older brother and how untidy his college room had been. Surely, a house in such a state would require someone as neat and precise as Jon.

The door opened to reveal a burly young man wearing a football jersey. His breath reeked of beer, but Jon instantly found him trustworthy. The boy led him inside, and Jon surveyed the disorder that surrounded him - empty beer cans, ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts, and dirt and filth as far as the eye could see. Jon relished in the challenge, visualizing each task and making mental notes of the order in which they should be accomplished.

As Jon began to clean, he reveled in the satisfaction of putting things back in order. He had always been neat, but this was something else entirely - an entirely new level of enjoyment. The first room he tackled was a spacious den, where a group of boys were engrossed in a video game. They all noticed him enter, whistling and cheering. One of them made a lascivious comment about Jon's backside, which he took as a compliment.

Standing on a step stool to reach the top shelf of the bookcase, Jon felt the air conditioning kiss his exposed backside. The boys in the room were eyeing him up and down, and Jon couldn't help but notice the stain on the jeans of a tall, dark-haired boy who was staring at Jon with a knowing grin.

"Excuse me, sir," Jon said, curtsying in the manly way guys did when greeting each other, "I don't mean to disturb your game, but I need to clean you up!"

The stain was on the boy's crotch, right over a very noticeable bulge, which was handy. Made it easier to get at the stain! Jon looked around for anything he might be able to use to clean it, but found nothing.

"Oh well," he giggled to himself, enjoying the challenge, "looks like I'll have to do it the hard way!"

Kneeling down between the boy's legs, he examined the stain. What it needed, he realized, was to be soaked. Lacking a sponge or cloth, Jon ran his tongue over the bulge in the boy's pants, soaking the stain with his saliva. It was a challenge, but Jon was enjoying himself immensely. After a few minutes of licking, he began to rub the stain gently, running his hand up and down the bulge. The room was alive with the excited hooting and hollering of the frat boys, who seemed to revel in the unexpected cleaning demonstration. The boy with the stain lay back, his bulge swelling and throbbing in anticipation.

But to Jon's dismay, the stain remained stubbornly present, resisting his every attempt to eradicate it. He paused, his hand lightly gripping the bulge as he pondered his next move. It was then that he realized he had **** but to remove the jeans and launder them. Jon felt ashamed at his inability to remove a simple stain, his blush deepening as he slid the garment slowly down the boy's legs.

With the jeans removed, Jon turned his attention to the boy's exposed thighs, his hands carefully checking for any scratches. He was relieved to find none, his attention soon drawn to the boy's bulge, which was now slightly seeping through his underwear. Here was Jon's chance to redeem himself, and he approached the task with renewed focus.

Gently licking and suckling on the bulge through the underwear, Jon was pleased to find that the stain was now nicely soaked. Looking around for something to finish the cleaning, he frowned. He had not brought enough cleaning supplies with him. Then it hit him. His ruffles! They would be perfect at soaking up the stain! He stood up, the turned around and lowered himself onto the bulge in the boy's underwear. Uncoordinated as he was, he mostly ended up rubbing his nearly bare ass on the boy's lap, but he was sure that the ruffles were hitting the stain enough to soak it up. To be sure, he swiveled and rubbed, enjoying the warm sensation of the bulge on his ass crack, sure that it was a sign of the stain being absorbed.

There, thought Jon, all clean.

Having successfully completing his task, Jon began to stand. Just then, though, the boy's hands reached around and grabbed Jon's chest through his padded bra, pulling him down onto his lap. Perhaps the boy wanted to thank Jon with a hug! Moved by the sweetness of the kind gesture, Jon allowed the boy to hold him securely. In fact, he liked being held by the boy, trusting him enough to not do anything unprincipled, so he felt safe in his arms. It was the warm wet feeling he didn't like. It made him nervous.

After the boy had finished and released him, Jon stood up and saw the white gooey liquid running down his stockinged legs. Despite Jon's best efforts, he had made yet another stain. Frustrated and ashamed, Jon removed the boy's underwear and headed off in search of a washing machine, his cleaning outfit also in need of laundering.

Stripping as he walked through the house, Jon sighed with frustration. It seemed that every time he found a practical outfit, he lost it somehow. But at least he was surrounded by friendly guys who would bend over backwards to help him out in any way he needed. Jon was sure of it.